


Rainy Day Lover

by MadAlien



Series: Perce & Ollie [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Bottom Oliver, Boys In Love, Hurt/Comfort, Locker Room Sex, M/M, Top Percy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-29
Updated: 2019-09-29
Packaged: 2020-11-07 19:09:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20822360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MadAlien/pseuds/MadAlien
Summary: After Puddlemere United loses the league championships, Oliver is in need of some comfort.





	Rainy Day Lover

Percy shifted awkwardly as he stood outside the Puddlemere United locker room. Player after player had passed by him as they left, all freshly showered and shouldering brooms and athletic bags. A few had given him a cursory nod, but most hadn’t paid him any mind. To say that the dismissal of Oliver’s friends and colleagues didn’t bother him a little would be a lie, but he was used to it by now. Even after being with Oliver for nearly five years, he didn’t quite fit in with the professional Quidditch crowd. He was skinny and bookish to their strong and athletic, and even somebody without Percy’s smarts could see that many wondered what Oliver even saw in him. 

Percy wondered that on occasion, too, but never for long; Oliver was too good at reassuring Percy of his love and devotion. Just thinking about it was normally enough to warm Percy’s insides and bring a smile to his face, but right now he was too worried to go all moon-eyed over the sweet words Oliver was constantly whispering into Percy’s ear. 

Desmond Hayes, one of Puddlemere’s Chasers and the only one of Oliver’s teammates who had bothered to befriend Percy, exited the locker room just then, a somewhat concerned expression on his face. “Percy,” he said, sounding a little relieved to see him. “Wasn’t sure if you’d made it to the match—so glad to see you!”

Percy bristled only a little at the insinuation that he might have skipped today’s championship match. True, he didn’t attend every single one of the regular season matches—he did have a very demanding job, after all—but what kind of husband would he be if he’d missed Oliver’s first championship as Puddlemere’s Keeper? Last time Puddlemere had made it to the league championships, Oliver had still been on the reserve team and hadn’t had the opportunity to play. “Wouldn’t have missed it,” Percy said, trying to keep his voice light. “Is he okay?”

Desmond shrugged. “He’s beatin’ himself up pretty hard. I’ve told him a thousand times that it’s not his fault, but he won’t listen to me. If Khan hadn’t been such a feckin’ hot head, the Wasps wouldn’t have gotten that penalty shot in the first place.”

Percy sighed, remembering the outrage and frustration he and the Puddlemere supporters had shared when Omar Khan, star Seeker and total blowhard, had lost his temper after being cut off by one of the Wasps Chasers while he was diving to catch the Snitch and tried to push her off her broom, earning the Wasps a penalty shot. Puddlemere had been playing brilliantly and were up 170 to 20 until Omar’s act of aggression, but Oliver’s failure to block the shot brought the Wasps up to 30 points. And then in a twist that fans and sports reporters alike were already comparing to the 1994 Quidditch World Cup, Puddlemere’s loss had been sealed not ninety seconds after the penalty shot when the Wasps’ Seeker caught the Snitch, bringing the score to 170 to 180.

Even from his place on the stands, Percy recognized the defeat and shame on Oliver’s face and in his body language, and he ached for him. Oliver had been so excited and so nervous to represent his team in such an important match, and Percy was pretty confident that Oliver was putting all the blame for the loss on himself.

“Khan’s a good player,” Percy half-mumbled, “but is he even worth the trouble?”

“I’ve been askin’ meself that since we signed him,” Desmond responded, looking a little guilty for insulting his teammate. “I’ve got to get goin’, mate,” Desmond continued, clapping Percy on the shoulder. “I was the last one in though, besides Oliver, so you might as well go in and see how he’s doin’.”

“Thanks, Des,” Percy said. “You played well today.”

Desmond just smiled a half smile and walked away, leaving Percy feeling nervous and unsettled. He’d never been inside the Puddlemere locker room before; it was strictly forbidden for anyone who wasn’t a player or member of staff to enter it, but he knew players snuck friends and family in all the time. Percy’s insistence on following the rules meant that he’d turned down any offer for a private tour Oliver had given in the past, but this was different, he decided. Oliver was disappointed and alone, and he needed Percy. 

He stepped into the room, and was pleasantly surprised that it didn’t smell nearly as dank and sweaty as he’d imagined it would. “Ollie?” he called out, not seeing Oliver immediately upon walking in. When he didn’t get an answer, he turned a corner into a separate room with a number of shower cubicles and long benches and saw a morose Oliver sitting hunched over on a bench on the far end of the room, hair damp from the shower and a fluffy towel slung across his waist. 

“Ollie?” Percy repeated when he drew closer, and Oliver seemed to snap out of some sort of trance. 

“Perce!” He said, sounding utterly surprised. “What are you doing in here?”

“Desmond said you were alone,” Percy said, “and I was getting worried.” 

Oliver’s face fell slack, and Percy sat down next to him, sliding an arm around Oliver’s waist and resting his cheek on Oliver’s shoulder. 

“I ruined it all, Perce,” Oliver said sadly. “If I’d just blocked that shot, we could’ve won. My first time as Keeper in a championship, and I fucked it all up.” 

“Ollie,” Percy said soothingly, “it’s not your fault. If Omar had focused more on doing his job and less on assaulting other players, the penalty shot never would have even happened.” 

Oliver shrugged half-heartedly, and Percy knew that his loyal, kind-hearted husband didn’t want to put down his teammates, even if Percy also knew that Oliver wasn’t a fan of Omar. “Maybe I’ve washed out,” Oliver said sadly. “Maybe I should just retire so I don’t ruin anything else.” 

“Sweetheart,” Percy said, still trying to soothe his distraught husband, “you’re not washed out. You’re only 26, and you’ve never played better than you did this season. I know you’re disappointed, and you’re allowed to be, but please don’t beat yourself up over this. I can’t bear it when you’re so hard on yourself.” He lifted his head off Oliver’s shoulder to look him in the eye, and was shocked to see a tear squeeze out of Oliver’s eyes and track down his face. The only other time he’d seen Oliver cry was at their wedding, and it broke Percy’s heart a little to see Oliver so distressed. 

“I love you, Ollie,” Percy said, kissing away the tear. 

“Love you.” Oliver threw himself into Percy’s arms, sniffling a little as he buried his face in Percy’s neck. It wasn’t the most comfortable position for either of them, as Oliver was so much taller than Percy, but Percy would have stayed like that, arms wrapped tightly around Oliver, for the rest of the day had Oliver needed it. 

After a few moments of silence, Percy felt warm lips against his neck trailing up toward his jaw. Oliver completed the journey to Percy’s mouth and kissed him deeply, tongue teasing along the crease of Percy’s lips. 

“Ollie,” Percy gasped, feeling a little uncertain due to their location, “maybe we should go home.” 

“Nobody’ll come in,” Oliver assured him, sucking on Percy’s lower lip. “Please, Perce. I need you. Need you to make me feel good. Please.” 

Percy’s resolve broke with Oliver’s beseeching pleas, and he kissed him back hard, carding his fingers into Oliver’s damp, fluffy hair. Oliver shifted so that he was straddling Percy’s lap. The hard wooden bench couldn’t have felt good against Oliver’s knees, but he didn’t seem to pay that any mind as he began to grind his cock against Percy’s. 

“Lift your hips,” Percy directed, shimmying out of his trousers and boxers as Oliver did as he was told, tossing his towel aside while he waited. They both moaned in unison when Oliver lowered himself back to Percy’s lap and their naked cocks brushed together. 

“What do you need, baby?” Percy ground out as Oliver resumed the slow, sensual roll of his hips. 

“Fuck me,” Oliver said, his voice a strangled whisper. 

Oliver very rarely wanted to bottom, which was more than fine for Percy. For all his prim and proper need for control, Percy loved very little more than he loved being absolutely taken apart by Oliver fucking him fast and hard. But every now and then, Oliver was filled with an insatiable need to be fucked by his husband, and Percy was happy to oblige. 

With one hand stroking along Oliver’s chest, Percy reached for his wand with the other, pulling away from Oliver’s deep, probing kiss just long enough to mutter stretching and lubricating charms to get Oliver ready for his cock. Never one to be anything but cautious, though, Percy snuck a finger into Oliver’s slick hole, needing to be sure that the charms had been successful before going any further. 

“Mmm, Perce, yes. More, baby,” Oliver moaned, nibbling on the side of Percy’s neck. 

Percy placated his husband by slipping another finger in, curving them just right to brush gently across Oliver’s prostate, earning him another sexy moan. Percy removed his fingers, causing Oliver to whimper a little in disapproval, and moved both hands to grip Oliver’s hips, his thumbs smoothing soft circles there. “You ready for my cock, Ollie?” Percy asked, a pleased and somewhat wicked smile on his face. 

Oliver nodded. “Yes, please. Need you so bad, Perce. Need you to fuck me.” 

Percy kissed him, encouraging Oliver with his hands to lift his hips. He lined his cock up with Oliver’s pulsating hole and nudged his cockhead inside. “Take what you need, Ollie,” Percy whispered, biting Oliver’s shoulder gently. 

With a groan that echoed through the locker room, Oliver bore down, sliding down Percy’s cock in one smooth motion. “Fuck, Perce,” he bit out, “I always forget how fucking good you feel inside me. How do I forget this, baby?” He began to ride his husband slowly, hands wandering all over Percy’s body as he did. “We need to do this more.” 

Percy chuckled, pulling Oliver’s face close for a wet, sloppy kiss. “Whatever you want, love,” he promised him, wrapping his fingers around Oliver’s hard cock and beginning to stroke softly, the way he knew Oliver liked when he was getting fucked. 

“Perce,” Oliver gasped, the word a prayer upon his lips. “Not gonna last long, baby. I’m sorry.” 

“Shhh,” Percy soothed, mouthing at the underside of Oliver’s jaw. “Just want to you feel good, Ollie. Come whenever you need to.”

Oliver nodded, dropping his forehead to Percy’s as he began to ride him harder, his tight hole clamping down on Percy’s cock. His breath came in harsh gasps and he lifted and lowered his hips again and again, seeking his pleasure with mounting desperation. “Percy,” he moaned. “Love you so much, baby. You feel so good. Gonna come all over you.”

Percy, realizing that he’d never taken his shirt off, quickly pulled it over his head before returning his hand to Oliver’s cock, stroking it harder and faster now that he knew Oliver was so close. “Do it, baby,” he said, voice strained. “Mark me with your come.” 

And that was all it took. Oliver came hard, ass strangling Percy’s cock and come splattering against Percy’s stomach and chest. Percy wasn’t far behind, and he gripped Oliver’s hips so tightly that he was certain he’d leave bruises as he pumped his come deep inside his husband. 

Percy leaned heavily against the wall the bench was up against as Oliver slumped onto his shoulder, Percy’s cock still buried deep inside him. “That was perfect,” Oliver whispered against Percy’s ear. “Thank you, baby.” 

“Love you,” Percy replied, kissing the side of Oliver’s head and trying to regain control of his breathing. 

“Love you more,” Oliver said, and Percy could practically hear the dopey smile on Oliver’s face. 

“Impossible,” Percy whispered. 

A few moments later, Oliver gingerly lifted up, letting Percy’s cock slip out of him, and got to his feet in front of his husband. “Fucking hell,” he said, seeing the red marks he’d left all over Percy’s neck and chest and the come cooling on his skin. “You are so fucking beautiful, Perce.” 

Percy blushed a little, still not accustomed to Oliver’s praise, even after so many years. “Thank you,” he whispered bashfully, standing up as well and casting charms to clean them both up. 

They both pulled their clothes on quickly before falling into each other’s arms again, each of them gathering strength from the embrace. “Take me home?” Oliver whispered finally. 

Percy nodded and stretched up to kiss Oliver gently. He held out his hand, which Oliver immediately took, and, fingers laced together, they left the locker room.

**Author's Note:**

> Title inspired by Ben Rector's "Forever Like That"


End file.
